


Downfall

by Eugewo (faeliya)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, F/F, F/M, M/M, You may need to watch the movie to understand everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17687333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeliya/pseuds/Eugewo
Summary: The Albion Defense Corporation has eight months left before they’re decommissioned. Uther Pendragon plans to make his last stand before kaiju or human can take his legacy. Gathering all Jaegers and ADC members in Camelot, Uther hopes the combined efforts of the remaining pilots are enough to fight the last battle. The world depends on them.





	Downfall

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read my AU note you probably already know what may happen, but I finally wrote it even if it's crap.  
> I made this a tumblr fic too, so if you want to read character profile spoilers you can visit Project Downfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feb 8: I had to change the dates after realizing everything wouldn't align. It still doesn't change the trajectory of the actual story, but it will fill in the holes I had in the plot.

**Aug 23, 2039 | Camelot**

_“The Anti-Kaiju Wall is nearly complete. With just Northumbria remaining, we’re looking at a 10-15% until completion. However, with Northumbria conditions the Wall could take anywhere up to six months to a year. Although, news has reached us that The Wall of Life Program will be funded by Albion United! Many politicians and citizens have been vying for Albion United to support the Wall, but they have been backing the Jaeger Program for years. It seems funding has been an on-going issue between Albion United and the Albion Defense Corporations, particularly with their Jaeger Program, which is estimated to cost between a few billions to hundreds of billion! Arguably that funding could’ve been spent more responsibly, especially on rations which citizens have been struggling with ever since the start of the Kaiju War. Albion United—”_

The room is enveloped in silence after the television is turned off. Although the silence has more to do with the tension between the two people in the room than anything else really. Bishop and Uther never did get along.

“Rumors travel fast. I’m afraid the news is swift on the uptake. It’s unfortunate that I couldn’t officially announce it to you before the vultures swooped in.” Bishop explains, but Uther knows better than to believe anything from an Albion United representative, especially Bishop. The balding gray old man probably had it all planned out so he couldn’t refute, refuse, or reject them.

“You’re really funding that Wall?” Uther can’t help but laugh. A wall isn’t going to stop a massive intellectual intraterrestrial being. Who is stupid enough to believe that a mere wall will stop Kaiju’s? The Jaeger Program has actual results to prove that it’s effective over some man-made wall that would most likely collapse on itself from the Kaiju’s earthquake before the actual Kaiju breaches it.

“The Albion Defense Corp’s Jaeger Program is too costly, Uther. The program may be more practical than all other options, but the reality is that we cannot keep funding something that’s going nowhere.” Bishop gestures dismissively with his hands as if mankind’s existence wasn’t a matter at stake here.

“Nowhere? We kill the damn things! That’s more than a wall will ever do!” Uther argues, rage boiling. How dare some congressman who no doubt cowers in their seats dare to look upon the ADC as some pet project to toss aside.

“Be that as it may, but your turnover rate with Jaegers and, let me remind you, _humans_ who pilot them, is outrageous. The Kaiju’s are not stopping and we cannot continue to fund your program any longer. We have begun looking into other means.” Bishop shuts down anything else that Uther is about to say with a raise of his hand. Uther fumes when he obeys the command.

“I, Bishop Gray, relieve you, Uther Pendragon, and the Albion Defense Corporations from Albion United. You have been decommissioned, Uther. We will allow you to have the remaining eight months funding in accordance to the contract, but after that Albion United will not back you any longer. The other seven have no doubt received the same news from their respective representative. We are charging you with leading the last excursion.” Bishop sees Uther ready to protest, but he silences him with his hand again.

“You started this, Uther. Now you have to finish it. I understand there are events and… deaths that prompted you to step down from the position, but you must understand we could not choose anyone else worthier.” Bishop could see all the fight drain from Uther and he pities the man before him. The Kaiju War has taken so much from Uther.

“I understand.” Uther stands and salutes, ready to be dismissed.

Bishop stands as well, nodding to Uther in assent to be at ease. “Everyone is expected to be shipped to Camelot Shatterdome for the last remainder of the contract. It has been an honor, Uther.”

Uther is surprised by the sudden hug from Bishop, he returns it stiffly after recollecting himself, “Indeed.”

When Uther walks out of Camelot’s State House, he does so with his back straight, shoulders apart, and head held proud. He’ll be damned if the press catches pictures of his inner turmoil.

* * *

 

**Aug 24, 2039 | Camelot Shatterdome LOCCENT**

The thing about being Secretary-General was that everyone listened to him, although Uther had that still after he stepped down to be Marshal, but then he had to listen to everyone else as well, especially when it came to them bitching. Uther is going to abhor these last eight months.

“Yeah, let’s sit back for the remainder of the eight months and then watch them crawl back begging for our help!” Bayard of Mercia has always been intolerant and rash, and Uther can already tell nothing has changed in him since he stepped down. Bayard was always a pain to deal with with his narrow-mindedness.

“That’s when we tell them to fuck off.” Lot of Essetir chimes in. Him and Bayard stoke each other’s fire far too well. Having _two_ stupidly obstinate Marshal’s is going to be a nightmare.

“This is not a game, you stupid pigs.” Annis of Caerleon reprimands. Just like Uther, Annis lost her significant other to the Kaiju War. Uther is glad there is a woman who will be the voice of reason and doesn’t take shit from any man. Sometimes men can’t see past their own bigheaded ego without a woman to put him in his place, and Uther has no doubt that Annis has no fear in striking any man before her from all the years that he has known her, Marshal or not.

“Agreed. We still have to abide by our part of the contract. There will be no _sitting around_.” Nemeth of Rodor is still as Uther remembers: pragmatic and calm.

“We do not have a shatterdome of our own, so expect us at early light tomorrow.” Olaf of Limerick interjects, completely changing the subject. Olaf has always been a man of few words and if Uther was honest, a bit socially stunted.

“We will also be there tomorrow, Uther.” Godwyn of Gawant has always addressed Uther by name. The two have been close friends before everything and after it all. He is a confidant Uther knows he can depend on and is rather glad that his old friend did not step down and join Uther in Camelot when Stellar Striker fell.

The holographic feed of all eight Marshal’s, although Northumbria appears to be disconnected and Uther can assume the buzz about the Wall and Northumbria are taking up Benedict’s time, look to Uther when he clears his throat.

“I’ll make sure Northumbria receives their part in this meeting, but I thank you all for making time on such a short notice. We have already begun preparations for your arrival so I expect each and everyone of you by the end of this week, and no later.” Uther makes sure to make eye contact with Bayard who has a habit of doing just that to anger him out of spite.

“I’ve gone through reports and records concerning our combined Jaegers and pilots.” Uther grimaces at this part. It did not look promising. Albion Defense Corporations has a total of 10 active Jaegers, not including any prototypes or retired models. The disconcerting news was that about half of them were pilotable. Jaeger pilots were a rarity nowadays.

“It does not look promising indeed.” Annis comments, frown marring her features as she reads the collective data Uther displays to them through the communicator.

“I believe our chances may be better with cross-piloting. Many of us have pilots without co-pilots. This will be an opportunity for them to find a match. Since all efforts are directed towards that Wall, we cannot hope for any new pilots. We will have to assume that we will be fighting with what we have.” Uther hopes that they will be able to fill all the available Jaegers with compatible pilots, but at the back of his mind Uther is also hoping one of them is not filled. He won’t be able to live with himself if he sends _that_ back out.

Murmurs erupt at Uther’s suggestion.

“You expect me to just hand our Brutus Vindicator over?!” Lot screeches. “Over my dead body!”

“I’m afraid you ask of too much. Assassin Viper has always been Caerleon’s since its development.” Annis frowns at the idea.

“This could be promising, you lot! Many of us have solo-pilots unable to command a Jaeger because they _cannot_ find a suitable co-pilot!” Rodor argues over Lot’s angry babbling.

“And when we pair someone without a Jaeger? Kick that Jaeger’s pilot out and give the new pair it?” Bayard really doesn’t need to say anything since he doesn’t even have any existing Jaegers or active pilots, but always the one to add to a fire.

At that idea everyone erupts into arguments and denials. If the hologram could stutter it would now from how much everyone is trying to raise their voice to be heard over everyone else. Uther would let them run out of steam before, but not anymore. Not with what’s a stake here.

“SILENCE!”

It does not take long for everyone to quiet and turn attentive to Uther.

“I am _not_ kicking anyone out of their Jaegers!” Uther can see Bayard open his mouth, ready to refute but Uther shuts him up with a thunderous look. “ _You_ don’t even have _any_ Jaegers or pilots to contribute so _shut it_! With the way you run things I am _not_ surprised this is all you can bring to the table. You will be _closely_ monitored when in _my_ shatterdome, Bayard!”

“Next! All active Jaegers with compatible pilots will remain with their respective team. Assassin Viper, Brutus Vindicator, and Colossus Alpha are our best. We cannot afford to lose them.” ADC’s core ABC team has always been reliable and efficient in their missions and Uther cannot fathom changing anything about them in case there’s any risk of losing them. Uther knows Camelot’s own Colossus Alpha prefers their regular regiment team and techs; it could be likely the others feel the same.

“Lastly. I understand that some of you may not be inclined to share your Jaegers, but if it’s just rusting away without being on the battlefield it’s a wasted piece of metal that deserves justice even if it’s going out there to _die_.”

“That’s a bit harsh.” Olaf mutters. Uther ignores him, along with all the dark thoughts and unsaid accusations that come with it. Uther knows he goes through humans like he goes through Albion United’s funds—depleted in a blink of an eye.

“I’ve already received a message from the Inland about supporting us for these last remaining months. I have high hopes that we can fill most, if not all, the Jaegers available.” Uther understands many of the Marshals are skeptical about Inland help, since they have always kept to themselves. Inland did not deem it their business to meddle in something that was not of their concern, and it certainly wasn’t being landlocked and all. The Inlanders simply left the Coasts to fend for themselves, what Coastlander wouldn’t feel bitter?

“Inlanders?!” Bayard protests. Uther ignores him.

“What are we? Desperate?” Lot scoffs.

“They don’t have the slightest clue about the technology or program.” Rodor retorts.

“I don’t understand their role in this, Uther.” Godwynn comments.

Clearing his throat, Uther begins to explain, but then decides to jump right to the point. “Kilgharrah has reasoned with me that these Inlanders are promising.” There is no one in Albion Defense Corporation that _doesn’t_ know Kilgharrah. The former Kwoon Fightmaster fostered some of the most brilliant Jaeger Pilots before his retirement. He has even offered to come to Camelot Shatterdome to retrain any cadets or graduates. Uther could not turn down such an offer especially when the Kwoon Fightmaster promised the training to only be four week long instead of twenty-four.

“If Kilgharrah says so then I have no reason to suspect anything.” Annis finalizes, saluting before disconnecting.

Slowly, one by one, everyone seems to come to a consensus at the mention of Kilgharrah and follows Annis’ actions. Soon, Uther is left by himself in the darkness of the command room. There should be a million thoughts after that meeting, but all Uther can surmise is that if he just mentioned Kilgharrah in the first place this would’ve gone a lot smoother.

* * *

 

**Aug 28, 2039 | Camelot Shatterdome Bridge**

“I can tell this is just going to go _wonderfully_.” Morgana jokes as she surveys Camelot’s Shatterdome bay area.

Below her, Morgana can see Camelot personnel rushing back and forth to clear up room for Nemeth’s Jaegers and its personnel team. Granted Camelot Shatterdome is the largest out of the five, but cramming all eight of them into one dome wasn’t going to be easy. Certainly they have enough space for everyone, but whether anyone would live by the end of it is another question. Morgana almost bit off Bayard’s hand when it wandered to close to her bosom earlier, and that was only hour two of day 1.

“I know. I almost punched Valiant back to Mercia when he greeted me. I thought I’d never have to see that asshole after graduation. Fuck, I was wrong.” Arthur adds, surprising Morgana as he joins her atop the bridge.

“Is that where you’ve been? Greeting all the Jaeger pilots?” Morgana smirks, knowing full well she’s goading him.

“Don’t even start, Morgana. I’ve had to deal with nothing but pompous and arrogant pilots all day.” Arthur turns around to lean against the rail instead, arms crossed and body language closed off.

Morgana pouts. Arthur’s being no fun. “You mean like you? I can’t see why you don’t get along with them?”

“I am not!” Arthur argues, disbelief crossing his face.

Morgana merely cackles before sauntering away with a wave. “Unlike some of us, I have work to do. Bye!”

Arthur doesn’t answer her, grumbling instead about what an evil woman she is and how Camelot Shatterdome is going to be a nightmare for eight months.

When Arthur first heard the news, he confronted his father about the matter: about how ridiculous it was that they were being decommissioned, that all eight representative countries of ADC weren’t going to fit or let alone get along in one Shatterdome, that if Valiant came anywhere near Camelot personnel he was going to beat the man into a blithering mess on the floor, that if he so much as pawned _Excalibur_ off to _anyone_ he’d detonate the Camelot Shatterdome bay area and blow up _every last Jaeger_ , damn it all.

Uther listened to him rant (did he though?) it all off his chest before swiveling his chair around to face Arthur. “Arthur. I expect you to be courteous and professional about this. I want you on your best behavior while our… guests are here.” Uther explains to his son in a very calm and slow voice, as if he’s talking to a child. That’s what annoys Arthur the most, that Uther still speaks to him as if he’s a kid in his nappers.

“Of course, sir.” Arthur affirms, saluting. When he trudges out Arthur feels utterly resigned to his fate: forever an officer, never to return to a Jaeger. In this case, forever will be eight months and then Arthur will have to return to being a normal citizen, and Stellar stars forbid, a wall builder. Arthur shudders at the mere thought of helping build that damn wall.

“Over my dead body.”

That is, if Arthur doesn’t die from the embarrassment already. Arthur can see the pitiful looks thrown his way from senior pilots, hear the mocking calls from pilots like Valiant who take glee in other’s suffering, smell the familiar engine tang from the likes of Mithian or any J-tech personnel who live and breathe Jaegers, and worst of all feel it in himself the failure that he’s become.

Being a J-tech officer just isn’t the same as piloting a Jaeger. Arthur wants to suit up, look his co-pilot in the eye and know they have each other’s life and trust, mind meld with them and synchronize to the point that he knows their quirks, secrets, and sexual fantasies, only to reach a greater high when the two of them take down a Jaeger and return _home_. Arthur misses the adrenaline high from drifting, and no amount of sexual endeavors or drugs has taken him that far, and it makes Arthur _itch_.

Although the reality of it is that he’s still scared. He has nightmares about crippling his next co-pilot and Arthur doesn’t think he can live with that again. He already can’t look his ex co-pilot in the eye because of it, eaten raw from the inside by his guilt. However, he’s addicted and no emotions can stop an addiction once it has already flowed through veins.

* * *

 

**Aug 28, 2039 | Caerleon in Camelot Shatterdome**

According to Uther, Limerick and Gawant have already settled in. It shouldn’t come to a surprise since they were the only two countries without a Shatterdome. Gawant prototypes any technology or equipment before Limerick manufactures them. Godwyn and Olaf may not have Jaegers of their own to be proud of, but they certainly play an important part in creating them. Although they are landlocked regions, they have always been a close ally to the rest of the Coastal regions.

Unfortunately, by the looks of it the rest of the company arrived the same day as Caerleon. Annis and her company were unable to make the trip any sooner because of delays on their Jaeger, Assassin Viper. A Mark-2 Jaeger powered by a nuclear-core reactor and armored with stainless steel and titanium reinforcements around the joints to prevent joint collapse. Isolde likes to keep the Jaeger sleek and polished so she tends to the machinery herself, but Annis always makes sure the viper stingers are fueled and equipped. Although Tristan and Isolde would rather beat the kaiju’s to death with Assassin Viper’s fists, their success rate mainly comes from utilizing the viper stings.

“Isolde. Tristan. I’ll leave you two to dock your Jaeger. Meet me in my quarters after you’ve settled in.” Annis addresses her two pilots who have been following her since their arrival.

Tristan and Isolde salute Annis before making their way towards their Jaeger, which seems to be situated right next to Lot’s Jaeger, Brutus Vindicator, one of two remaining Mark-1’s in existence. Annis has only glimpsed photos of the Jaeger, but it truly looks its age. Brutus Vindicator is in need of some proper care to manage the noticeable rust curling around the joints of the Jaeger. Rusted joints on a Jaeger were early signs of retirement for the machinery.

Annis frowns when she sees Cenred snipe at a Camelot personnel for mishandling equipment to Brutus Vindicator. Lot may let his pilots run amok, but Annis has zero tolerance for such behaviors. “Cenred of Essetir.” Annis greets, appearing to be amicable under the guise of shutting down the Jaeger pilot, “Must I remind you that you are now on Camelot grounds. Such behavior is untoward and unprofessional.”

The Camelot personnel scurries away as soon as Cenred lets him go, his attention garnered by Annis. “And you would know of etiquette, wouldn’t you, Marshal Annis?”

Annis can sense the mock in her title, but pays no mind to it. Most Jaeger pilots are egotistic with no discipline whatsoever. Annis is rather eager for Kilgharrah to put all the 2011 and subsequent graduates in their place. “I do. You are not under only one Marshal now, pilot. If I see anymore contemptuous behavior from you, you won’t be answering to just me, but every one of is Marshal’s, am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Cenred smirks, turning his back without a proper salute.

Annis watches him go with a stern look, annoyed by the pilot’s impropriety.

“Annis of Caerleon.”

Annis turns around to appraise the individual addressing her. Morgana Le Fay is indeed a marvel. She commands just like Uther from the set of her shoulders to the piercing green eyes and the aura around her. Annis has heard rumors about her as a LOCCENT Mission Controller and she has no doubt that Morgana is beyond proficient in her job and any other expertise.

“Morgana Le Fay. Thank you for escorting us.” Annis returns the greeting with a handshake.

“It’s an honor and a pleasure. Anyone else and I would’ve ripped their heads off their necks.” Morgana casually comments as she leads Annis to her quarters.

Annis cannot help but laugh at that. She shares the exact same sentiment. “I would’ve followed right after you.”

Morgana smirks over her shoulder and Annis visibly relaxes at the look that conveys, ‘You have an ally right here. We must stick together. Men can be dicks.’

After this all, Annis deserves a long retirement whether the kaiju’s are dead or not.

* * *

 

**Aug 28, 2039 | Nemeth in Camelot Shatterdome**

“Who is the head Jumphawk pilot here?!” Mithian exclaims in frustration outside the Camelot Shatterdome bay area. The Camelot personnel simply look down when they meet her fury, but do not say anything.

“I’ve just arrived and we were promised docking areas for our _three_ Jaegers! But why can no one direct me there?!” Mithian usually doesn’t loose her temper this easily, but she’s been traveling all day and everyone of her crew is _exhausted_. She just wants to direct her Strike Group to the correct bay area so that they can place the Jaegers in their respective bays and retire for the day.

“I’m Officer Leon Knightley. I apologize for the delay, but please follow me.” A scruffy redhead announces, hand raised amongst the sea of Camelot personnel to show where his voice is coming from. The fact that everyone is parting for him like royalty must mean he is indeed an officer of esteem.

“Finally.” Mithian exclaims in exasperation, following Leon and signaling for her Strike Group above her to move in and follow her. “Took you all long enough.” Mithian mutters under her breath, and she hopes she was heard. Judging by Leon’s silence though it looks like she wasn’t, or he’s deliberately ignoring her.

“Your three Jaegers can be stationed in the West block. We’ve made space for them to be side by side. Our Camelot personnel are awaiting to assist you if you need any help.” Leon turns to face her when they’ve reached the end of the outer bay area. Something must show on her face though, for Leon’s features soften and he apologizes once again, “I apologize for the delay. I understand your travels from Nemeth were not easy, but we will do our best to swiftly situate your crew so that you all may rest.”

Mithian smiles softly in return, “Thank you. It has been a long day.”

Leon approaches her, and she can’t help but step back a bit from his sudden proximity, but when he grasps her hands in his she forces herself to be at ease. Although the handshake and grip confound her, Mithian is even more surprised by the words, “Look at ease, comrade.”

That was a code of conduct for Jaeger pilots, not Jumphawk pilots.

* * *

 

**Aug 28 2039 | Gawant in Camelot Shatterdome**

Having settled in days earlier, Elena is relieved she’s not a part of the mess that’s Camelot Shatterdome right now. The bay area is no doubt cluster-fucked with everyone running around and yelling. Elena has only been present for one Jaeger deployment and that was a nightmare with everyone rushing around in a sea of human bodies, so Elena can only imagine it’s similar to that experience but times two, no scratch that, times eight.

“Did you speak to your father yet?” A smooth male voice interrupts her imagination.

“No.” Elena replies irritably. Lancelot was such a busybody, but with the best of intentions and always followed the rules and his code of properness, and why was Lancelot such a perfect man without any flaw? Elena would’ve jumped him if she wasn’t a lesbian.

“And why’s that?” Lancelot continues to inquire as he settles his perfect bum on the armrest of Elena’s chair. Elena secretly side-eyes those cheeks and if she fails to move her right hand in time before they brush his ass, she’s known as a klutz for a reason.

“He’s in the bay area and you know what a terror that place is right now. In fact, I was just imagining it before you so rudely interrupted my thoughts.” Elena curls in on herself to prop her head on her dominant arm, since Lancelot is occupying her arm rest. Shame on him.

“And why would you imagine that?” Lancelot questions, voice suddenly softer and oh God, Elena hates it when his expression gentles (even more than it already is passively) and voice turns fond. Elena starts chanting, although it’s starting to turn into a prayer in her head now; she has to remind herself that she likes boobs and vaginas.

“…I don’t know… Don’t question it.” Elena snaps. Lancelot laughs quietly at her.

This is the first time they’ve properly held a conversation since leaving Gawant and Elena understands Lancelot must be feeling somewhat nostalgic being back in Camelot. She wonders if he misses it. Lancelot always seemed distracted back in Gawant, as if his heart and mind were somewhere else.

“How is it?” Elena asks before realizing what she’s asking.

Lancelot doesn’t reply for a long time, and Elena is afraid she asked the wrong question, or that he doesn’t know what she’s asking, or that he didn’t hear her, or maybe he did but he’s ignoring it, or perhaps—

“I don’t know.” And with that Lancelot rises and walks out of the Commons Room.

“So… Wrong question…” Elena mutters to herself as she slumps into the seat, head pillowed where Lancelot was previously.

* * *

 

**Aug 28, 2039 | Limerick in Camelot Shatterdome**

“Wow, Princess. You sure showed him!” Gwaine laughs as he trails after a fuming Vivian.

“That shameless prick!” Vivian shrieks as she wipes at herself with her hands, trying to cleanse herself of Valiant’s harassment.

The two of them had gone down to the bay area to get a good look of the Jaegers, but instead Valiant of Mercia physically inspected Vivian instead when she tried to get too close to Brutus Vindicator. The screech that Vivian made turned every head in Camelot Shatterdome bay and just in time for _everyone_ to see Vivian to slap Valiant into the ground, probably unconscious if Gwaine was honest since he didn’t get up afterwards even with some prodding on Gwaine’s part.

Luckily, Olaf returned to Limerick earlier this morning to handle important matters. If Olaf saw what Valiant did, Gwaine would proudly admit that her father would disembowel Valiant to the public eye. Gwaine’s learned to not provoke Olaf, especially after his first drunken mistake when he commented about Vivian’s rack. It took awhile for Olaf to understand, so when Gwaine woke up in a cell instead of his bed, it also took him awhile to piece everything together before apologizing to Olaf.

The apology did nothing and Gwaine was in chains for a good week.

“You knocked him out good though.” Gwaine’s still laughing and Vivian whirls on him with looks that could kill.

“He deserved it!”

“I’m not saying he didn’t!” Gwaine holds up his hands in protest.

“I should’ve kicked his balls for good measure!”

“Of course!” Gwaine agrees nodding furiously.

“And why didn’t you do anything?!” Vivian shoves a finger into his chest.

Vivian has more strength in her than she looks, and if the slap didn’t convince anyone Gwaine doesn’t know what will. Having lived in Limerick for awhile and accompanied Vivian for half that time, Gwaine knows better than anyone what a feisty, fiery thing Vivian can be. But if Gwaine told her she could handle herself, she’d punch the living daylight out of him, just to prove a point.

“You reacted faster than I could!” Gwaine retorts. “He was on the floor before I could even move!”

“Damn right!” And with that Vivian twirls herself back around to continue marching down Camelot Shatterdome’s corridors.

Gwaine watches her go and shivers at the thought of ever being at the end of Vivian’s fury.

“Ah. Sorry.” A huge giant apologizes to Gwaine.

“No, no. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t be standing still in the middle of these busy corridors, yeah?” Gwaine offers to help the man gather the gadgets littering the floor. Gwaine receives a strained smile in return for his efforts though.

However, when their hands brush over a communicator the man freezes and stares at Gwaine in awe. Gwaine is slower on the uptake and the only thing he can muster is a, “We’re fucked.”

* * *

 

**Aug 28, 2039 | Kwoon Combat Room, Camelot Shatterdome**

After his retirement from the Jaeger Academy, Kilgharrah promised never to return to the Albion Defense Corporation. However, circumstances have changed and the wheels of fate are turning and Kilgharrah must play his part in it.

“Unlike the Jaeger Academy, we only have a meager Kwoon Combat Room. I hope it suits your needs, if not we can arrange for something more.” Uther gestures to the arena and Kilgharrah cannot help but snort at the size of it all. The room is indeed small and half the size of what the Jaeger Academy had, but it will do. Afterall, he won’t be teaching a class of hundreds, just a handful of graduates who need re-shaping. If Kilgharrah suspicions are correct, the graduates after his retirement are lacking severely. It almost hurts his pride to let them gallivant around.

“It will do.”

Uther nods in affirmation. “If there is anything else you may be needing, Morgana will help arrange for it.”

Kilgharrah ignores the humility, instead digging into his pockets for a cigarette. Uther frowns at the smolder and smoke, but doesn’t reprimand the Kwoon Fightmaster. Kilgharrah is known to chain smoke packs after packs, and telling the man to not smoke was asking for an early death sentence or offending the Pope.

“I hear that your son lacks a compatible drift.” Kilgharrah comments nonchalantly, digging right into the root of Uther’s dilemma.

“…You are not wrong.” Uther hesitates to answer, but thinks otherwise. What doesn’t Kilgharrah know already?

“You fear that he will return to the battlefield, just like your wife did.” _Who died and never returned_ Uther supplies mentally.

Kilgharrah doesn’t need a reply to continue, “You will have to face your fears soon. Your son _will_ find a co-pilot.”

Uther moves suddenly to steal Kilgharrah cigarette. In one fluid motion he finishes the fag and flings it between them. When he speaks next, smoke rises from his parted lips, “I’ll be damned if I lose my son as well.”

“That is not for you to decide, Marshal.” Kilgharrah laughs, extinguishing the remaining light from the cigarette with his shoes.

When Uther watches the light go out after Kilgharrah has crushed it, he pales at the analogy.

“Over my dead body.”

Kilgharrah’s laugh can be heard ringing in Uther’s ears as he retreats, and damn him. If he wasn’t a professional, he would’ve booted the Kwoon Fightmaster out of Camelot Shatterdome.

* * *

 

**Aug 28, 2039 | 0 Floor, Camelot Shatterdome**

“Merlin!”

“Merlin!”

“MERLIN!”

Merlin jolts awake at the call of his name. He only meant to take a quick nap, but considering the puddle size of his drool that wasn’t the case.

“Coming!” Merlin croaks, still groggy and tired.

Ever since it was announced that all of Albion Defense Corps would be gathering in Camelot Shatterdome, everyone’s been in a state of panic. Merlin’s only been here for a few months and he still hasn’t been able to get the gist of everything yet, in fact all the K-Science officers tell him to steer clear of the labs. Now, instead of him being in a state of franticness and flailing limbs, everyone is.

All because Uther came down a few days ago to order Gaius and all K-Science personnel to make room for Nemeth and Caerleon’s crew, and Uther Pendragon _never_ came down to K-Science. He usually left the department to themselves, and everyone preferred it that way. So, Merlin could see why everyone was being crazy.

“Merlin!” Gaius rounds the corner before Merlin could get his legs to cooperate with him and his sudden appearance nearly knocks Merlin over.

“Oh Stellar stars! Don’t do that, Gaius!” Merlin gasps, heart pounding and head throbbing while he uses the wall beside them for support.

“My boy! What is wrong with you? Did you take your medications?” Gaius helps him sit down, back against the wall. Lately, Merlin has been feeling a bit out of sorts. Ever since Kilgharrah sent him to go live with Gaius, Merlin’s been feeling the same symptoms as he did when he lived with his mother in Ealdor—nauseous, migraines, wheezing, and insomniac. Not to mention the blackout episodes he randomly wakes up from, memory lapses he tends to have (which might be why everyone looks at him as if he’s so stupid), and anxiety attacks that make him mindless.

When Gaius found out about all this (minus the insomnia because then Merlin would have to talk about _that_ and he has never told anyone about _that_ and he’s not about to start now), he prescribed his nephew some memantine and benzodiazepine to help with his memory problems and anxiety. And Merlin will have to admit that they work for the most part, but that doesn’t mean he like being dependent on drugs. He hates even more the part where he has to swallow them; they make him gag every time. Not to mention his morning routine takes twice as long now since he just stands there in his room with his head tilted back as if the pill will just slide down his throat without the actual swallowing part.

“I took them this morning, Gaius. M’fine. I just woke up from a nap so still groggy, yeah?” Merlin tries to assure his uncle that he’s fine, but Gaius will have none of it from the looks of it.

“I doubt that. Let’s get you back to your room. You can help me tomorrow instead, understand?” Gaius pulls him up and he finds it rather hard supporting his nephew’s frame with his old weary bones, but finds the strength nonetheless from his fondness for the boy and younger sister to continue dragging the half-conscious boy.

“You look like you could use some help, Gaius.” A familiar voice interrupts Gaius’ concentration and the old man tilts his head back past his nephew’s slumped frame to inspect Kilgharrah. Not much has changed in Kilgharrah, aside from the severe bags under his eyes which have layered even more since Gaius last saw him. Clearly, Kilgharrah has not stopped smoking.

“What brings you here?” Gaius questions. Although Kilgharrah has been a loyal family friend, Gaius does not trust the man. When he sent Merlin to come live with him, Gaius knew it was more than just _taking care of a personal matter_.

“I had to confirm something without Merlin knowing and I fear what I thought will come to realization. We must speak, privately, Gaius. I cannot trust anyone, but you with this.” When Kilgharrah finally meets Gaius’ gaze, his sclera flickers black for a mere fraction of a second but Gaius knows it was not a delusion.

* * *

 

**Aug 29, 2039 | Inland**

It’s just about dawn when they reach the border of Camelot and Nimueh almost falls to her knees at how much her hometown has not changed, as well as the stars that seem to burn brighter than anywhere else she’s been.

“Will he allow you to return?” A hooded figure steps beside her.

“…I don’t know.” Nimueh whispers into the skies, hoping her voice can reach the stars.

Nimueh may not know about other people’s thoughts or decisions, but she knows hers and she’s decided to return to Camelot for her final calling. She just hopes the stars have not guided her wrong all this time.

“Oh, Stellar stars.” Nimueh says it like a prayer and a bright star above her answers with a twinkle.


End file.
